


Birthday Under the Stars

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Birthday Sex, Couple, Episode Tag, Episode: s07e06 Green Light, F/M, Romance, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 17:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10194986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: I needed this. Patrick Jane, first-person point of view. Lisbon makes Jane's birthday night one worth remembering! Tag to 706 'Green Light.' One-shot. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.Posted originally at FFnet on January 12, 2015. Now here with minor adjustments to improve readability.





	

I can't let Teresa go with one kiss, even to finish the champagne and relax under the cheery lights she's strung. Her thoughtfulness, her faithful love over years of no hope, overwhelms me. To realize I've been loved so deeply for so long, only to doubt its resilience, an excuse for my own cowardice. Shaking my head, I struggle to feel the reality in that simple mended cup. What I almost lost forever.  


My hand easily wraps her upper arm as she leans to meet me in another kiss. I want to keep her lips warm so that she knows it is not just a couple pecks but a promise of more to come. Her pliant mouth arouses me in just that one moment and my body responds immediately. I'm hard and hope to be harder, a pleasure to spread my legs wide so my ignited cock has room for fantasy while it lazily awaits its exquisite destiny.  


Teresa sees me adjust, smiles slyly and crosses her legs. I imagine what is squashed as she presses down her own excitement. Patient. Smoldering for me.  


She sets her empty glass on the table. "You feel like doing some stargazing, Patrick?"  


The night sky is thick as a winter blanket, loaded with stars and smeared by the Milky Way. I feel an ancient thrum and something in me soars. "Sure. Why not? Lovely night for it." Her surprise invitation gives me a crooked smile. Finish the champagne first! The heavy bottle feels cold on my lips as I guzzle half the small remainder and hand her the rest.  


She finishes and sets the bottle on the table, picking up the unopened bottle of wine. "I'll take this and the glasses. You grab a couple blankets from inside and let's go."  


I have to kiss her again as I pass, lingering this time to look at her eyes and face, brush back a breezy lock of hair that the night air has curled 'round its fingers. Teresa smiles and turns her head to kiss my palm. I give her a wink as I turn to go inside to pull the blanket and comforter from the bed. Pillows! I set them in the middle and gather the corners to make a floppy oversized hobo pack.  


"What's in there?" Her fingers prod the rounded bulk. "It's soft. Pillows?"  


"Yes. If we're going to stargaze, let's do it in comfort."  


"Niii-iice. You going to be okay carrying that?"  


"Sure. It's bulky, but soft and not heavy at all."  


"Okay. Which way, then?" She sweeps her arms wide, the glasses glinting and a green glow through the bottle as they pass the low, rising moon. The hem of her blouse momentarily lifts in front, over the line of her low-riding pants. Her navel excites me. She is graceful, expansive, glowing with champagne and happiness.  


"There's a field on a hill. Not too far." I point. She takes off and I follow the shade of her figure until she pauses to let me catch up. I immediately miss the sight of her moving bottom. The dry winter grass and herbage rustles and crackles underfoot like a bonfire, releasing occasional concentrated remembrances of summer flowers.  


It's a good walk to the field, further and further from the dim lights of the RV park which is tucked away from the city's glow. At the top of the rise, Lisbon gasps. The hill is treeless and sinks the horizon of the night sky below our feet, distorting the normal visual markers of the human eye. It makes the vast sky reel and we shuffle our feet for balance.  


The crescent moon is just rising, low and casting shadows in the tall dormant grasses. The Milky Way binds the sky with its wrinkled white organdy sash. To me, it looks as if someone spilled marshmallow crème on starry velvet and tried to scrape it off. Exercise has pumped us full of oxygen, fresh and unfettered by any air conditioning unit. The air has a slight chill, not quite crisp, mild for a Texas winter night.  


Lisbon chooses a spot and we settle the blanket and pillows, folding the comforter to set at the foot of our pallet. The dry grass makes a surprisingly good cushion with some spikey exceptions. I decide not to look at the overpowering sky again until I'm sitting.  


She hands me the glasses. "Shit!" She stomps a little booted foot. "Ja-ane . . . I left the corkscrew behind."  


Perfect time for my recent purchase! "Never fear. Even the most basic field Swiss Army knife has a corkscrew." I dig it out of my pants pocket. It's not overly large but I'd made sure it had a sturdy corkscrew among other gadgets I would use.  


Lisbon lets out a rather offensive snort. "Since when do you carry a pocket knife?"  


I indulge in a little indignant sniff. "I live in the country. I thought it would come in handy."  


A bit of perverse enjoyment washes over me when Lisbon sheepishly says, "And it has," holding out her hand. I lightly slap the knife into her palm and wait until she looks up to see my smug smile. Her eyes twinkle and my traitorous mouth widens into a sappy grin. She owns me.  


Those little fingers turn the knife round and round in the dark. "Where is the corkscrew?"  


"Hmmmmmm." Haven't a clue. I take it and fumble around.  


"You've never opened that knife before, have you?" She's snickering behind her hand.  


I know right where everything is on this woman, so when my arm darts out, my nimble, knowing fingers pinch her ass a good one.  


She squeaks and jumps, then laughs. "Hey!"  


I'm satisfied. Concentrating, my fingertips edging deftly along the closed knife, I find the little coils. "Ah! I feel it!" Unsheathing the corkscrew, I press the haft firmly in her palm.  


Strong fingers and knees clasp the bottle. It doesn't have a chance of escaping the grip of those flexing thighs, mmmmm. She twists the screw into the cork, wedges the bottle tighter and slowly unseats it, grunting a little, "Unh unh unh unh unh." It's a soft, rooting sound, strangely feral. Or is that just me?  


"Need some help, sweet little piglet?"  


Tunk! "Got it! Your glass?"  


"Let's sit down. No sense in getting spotted standing together in a deserted field, miles from anywhere." It's a joke. I hope she gets it. She knows the secrecy is wearing thin with me.  


A silly giggle. "You're right. Abbott probably sends spies out to our lovetruck to note when the lights go out and when the rocking starts."  


A little love arrow pierces my heart, and I close my eyes to savor it. Our rocking lovetruck.  


She pours the wine and I toast.  


"You said _our_ lovetruck."  


She tips my glass, eyes glinting in the moonlight. "To our lovetruck, then."  


As I sip my wine, I look at the sky and start pointing out constellations. Teresa's interested for a while, but she has other things on her mind.  


"You don't say? What about that constellation?" She makes random squiggly gestures at the sky.  


"Are you mocking me?"  


"I bring you out in the night, put you on a blanket under the stars, put a glass of wine in your hand, a pillow under your head . . . and you want to give me astronomy lessons on your birthday."  


I don't point out that the pillows were my idea, and stargazing, hers. "Just passing the time, waiting for you to make your move on me, you luscious creature. What's taking you so long? I want to be under the beautiful star-filled night with a glass of wine in my hand and the woman I love cuddled next to me on a blanket on the ground, sighing in contentment."  


"Set your wine down."  


I toss it back and let the glass drop into the grass behind me. She does too, then traces the line of her breasts and torso in a dramatic flair that makes me chuckle. Vamping. Then she's next to me, warm and curvy, seeking my lips. It's the sweetest part of every night.  


Her head rests on my arm and my hand is tucked under her waist, stroking her enticing ass whenever she turns to press me for a deeper kiss. My balls fizz under a hard on straining my pants to get inside the woman in my arms. Bad boy remembers Teresa.  


She hums and sits up, taking off her boots and jacket.  


"You'll get cold."  


She unbuttons my pants and pulls them to my knees with my underwear.  


"I'll get cold."  


"I don't think so. I'm gonna be all over you and your bad boy."  


I love it when she calls him by name. My back curls in pleasure and bad boy springs up like a tower.  


Lisbon prods my butt. "Lift up. That's it, all the way." She stuffs her pillow under my hips and my legs fall open to her. "Wow. I think the spies are going to spot that erection from Austin!"  


Then her mouth is warming me, taking me in, her hair blanketing my hips and tickling my belly, her arms on my thighs as she draws the sense right out of me, her hands and fingers a warm tunnel of love. She fondles my balls the way she might love on kittens. Everything is warm and slippery and when she sucks she wraps her tongue around the head and makes it hers. I don't want it to end.  


Her tantalizing rump sways as she works me, and I imagine it naked on my face as I ravish the sweet woman of her, but she has me in ecstatic torpor and I don't want to break her concentration by trying to pull down her pants. But that vision makes me moan, and I scratch at her clothed buttocks instead, saying her name.  


"I want you naked," she responds.  


But I'm all warm putty. I roll my hips and poke myself at her soft mouth instead.  


When she lets go of him, bad boy wishes he had teeth and could bite her lip. Doesn't the woman understand the cooling effect of evaporation?  


I lift my head to look at her when I speak. "You want me to remove all my clothes in public and freeze my little fanny off in the night air?"  


She scoots up to kiss me, full of my scent. "I don't see a public. But no, I wouldn't harm your succulent little fanny for the world. I love it too much." She rubs the object of her affection, then pulls the pillow from under it. "I just want you to show it to me."  


"It's nippy."  


"That's why I said bring two blankets. But it's your birthday. We'll do what you want." She kisses me and pumps bad boy into a better mood.  


"You're more adventurous than I thought."  


"You have no idea. Get under the comforter and c'mere to me, Patrick." She feathers the head of my dick with her fingers.  


I grip her arms gently and bring her close. "Cover us."  


But she kisses me instead. The kiss turns long and deep, tender with probing tongues. Her whisper tickles my ear and fires the root of my cock.  


"I love you so much, Patrick. Your happiness is the only thing I care about. Making love with you turns my life into heaven."  


No one has said such a thing to me before. She picks at the buttons of my vest, but I reach for the folded comforter at my feet, shake it out and let it settle over us. I'm already feeling warmer.  


She's at my throat now, sucking and pulling hard around the base of my neck. I can feel her little teeth, marking me, biting gently to bring my blood to the surface. A necklace of blood rose petals. I'll give her a necklace, the little vampire!  


But I'm overcome by the sensation of her hungry mouth and throw my head back, filling my lungs with the night air. Sometimes in her excitement, her legs clamber over me, brushing my sensitized cock and making me cry out in a rush of pleasure. She transforms my body into helpless sensation. "The sweetest, most wonderful part of my life is you, Teresa."  


Finally, she bares my torso and sets my clothes to the side in a heap. But before she can take my pants completely off, I open her blouse, pushing it down her arms, helping her pull out of it.  


"What are you wearing?" Oh god. It's peach lace and freckles and cream and the scent of her breasts makes me want to bury my face in them and weep.  


My voice is scratchy with lust; my body jerks with pleasure when she touches me. Running my tongue under the peach lace edging of her bra. Licking the scent of her flesh onto my ample tongue. Fingers caressing their way across her hidden, hardening nipples.  


I tip the cups down and free her naked breasts for my mouth. They are a rich meal, savory and filling. I don't know what sounds I make as my mouth travels her entire chest, her silky throat, her neck and ears. I'm roving, insatiable, free- unable to find a place to linger until I find her lips. They are a plump cherry stain set under the jewel-green shine of her eyes. "I love you." I make her mouth mine, sucking the sweetness, swathing every surface until she's panting. I break slowly from her flesh to let her breathe.  


Her chest heaves the mounds of her breasts, firm nipples stroking my chest as she looks at me, whimpering desire. Rubbing her back softly, I guide her head to lie over my pounding heart. How could any man love a woman so much and live through it? Leaning back as if to release some of our heat, she parts her legs and billows the comforter, knowing I will pick up her scent. Arousal is its prominent feature now. Her fingers snake my chest and sides, anchor at my waist. I toe off my shoes, kick away the rest of my clothing and strip Teresa of everything below the waist.  


While I bend to undress us, she kisses the back of my neck, my shoulders and collarbone until she raises the flesh, thumbing my BB-hard nipples until I'm moaning. I can feel my cock quiver. When I straighten to kiss her again, she only brushes my lips, questioning.  


Oh, I'm proud, my erection already granite. My musk mixes with hers, and I watch Teresa fill her nostrils. Her mouth waters to the seam of her lips before she heads under the comforter to finish me off. I hold the covers up so I can see.  


I look huge, my excited cock arching as she fills her mouth with its tender fleshy head. I know I'm leaking salty moisture into her mouth.  


I'm trying to hold back. "I want you to come, too."  


"Oh, no. You are free to come as hard as you like. Whenever you like. Relax and enjoy this. Do whatever gives you pleasure." She's made me soaking and slick, tubing her hands vigorously along my length.  


The sound of her work, her wet mouth sucking everything, the sticky slick as it humps over the ridges of her fingers, her hums and gasps of satisfaction, what it does to her rushing breath. We're gasping together and I move in her hands, fucking them, gently fucking her mouth, so warm and tight. Wet and soft and warm, she's laving the head when the sizzle leaps from my balls and up my spine.  


But I can't think anymore. A sobbing groan escapes my chest and I wrap her between my legs. My hands cover her entire back as I press on it, trying hard not to thrust. My balls are swollen with new semen and they move higher, begging for the softest caress of her fingertips. She gives it and my mouth opens, a trumpet calling into the heavy night air. My body jerks like a rag doll before I spurt into her mouth, semen as hot as my blood, salt and starch spreading its scent along her tongue and into her nostrils. I can smell it, mixed with all our scent in the billow of the comforter. She puts a light hand low on my bottom, caressing it, the added wave of pleasure intensifying my orgasm.  


"So good. Patrick."  


In a few moments, she slides on top of me, still kissing my flagging erection. Her whole body is undulating against me, her steaming flesh near my face.  


"Patrick."  


I bury her in my mouth, sucking juices and flesh together. Wedging my fingers under her breast, I roll and thumb a nipple and she comes, her lower lips rolling rhythmically on my mouth.  


Her head pillows on my belly, her voice vibrating as she talks to me. "Oh god, oh god, Patrick."  


When I shift position, my still-heavy cock rubs against her cheek and she turns to rain little kisses on it.  


I dive under the blanket, head first, pushing her to her back, forcing her legs gently apart. My mouth is on her, my tongue delving, spreading her open with my sliding fingers. She's slipperier than gumbo and much more tasty. My eyes feast on her, but it's dark so I recite her from memory, so beautifully made, symmetrical and classic, even swollen now with lust, with love and desire for me. It makes me hungry for her and I let her know it here, at her core.  


She has fists of my hair and her hips writhe under my mouth. "Can I . . . Patrick . . . can I have your fingers?"  


I lap her loudly, croaking assent from a low rumble in my chest, and slip my longest fingers in, dizzy when she releases a loud moan of relief.  


"Uunnngghh. Your fingers are so long . . . graceful and strong. I . . . wanted . . . something hard in me . . . tonight."  


I ply her mercilessly fingertip to hand so she gets the full length of what she craves. Her responses excite me. "Oh I think you'll be getting your wish for something hard. When you're ready, let me know." I am rigid again, and I rub my length on her knee to warn her, longing to be inside her.  


Fretful little howls wind from her throat, like a wolf pup, as she gets close to release. I lay two fingers on either side of her clit, baring it, pushing it up to lash it with the tip of my tongue, following as she arches away until she's deep into a powerful orgasm. It arouses me so much, I'm grunting and fixated on holding that tender little clit in my lips as she rocks but it's throbbing in her world now and I can't control it.  


I scoot up, tugging her still convulsing body to my chest, stroking her sides to soothe, to let her know I'm still with her. When I lift her leg to my waist she rests her forehead on mine and I impale her, driving myself into the welcoming heat, listening to her sound surprise and deep, deep pleasure as inside, her muscles grab. She groans and goes limp while I drive into her again and again, mad with her.  


"Teresa! Teresa, look at me."  


She opens dreamy eyes and smiles at me. "Patrick," she says softly and puts a hand on my cheek before she closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. "I love you. You make me feel so good."  


I pull the comforter down so I can watch her in the moonlight. Her body rocks as I move inside her. Her skin is flushed. Even in the dim light, I know it is scattered pink and scarlet like a carpet of rose petals from her cheeks to her breasts.  


"You drive me to ecstasy, Teresa."  


When she widens her legs and changes the angle of her hips, she arches her neck, exposing her throat, voice rhythmic and high like a song. I lose track of what my body is doing and follow her cries until she breaks and I break with her. Everything is worth this. Everything.


End file.
